The Disaster at the Gladden Fields
by Bilbo'sHistoricalArchive
Summary: Disaster at the Gladden Fields, a short tale in which it is told of the last moments of the newly crowned king Isildur and his sons.
1. Preface

Description: Disaster at the Gladden Fields, a short tale in which it is told of the last moments of the newly crowned   
king Isildur and his sons.  
Disclaimer: This is a distortioned view of the real event so don't take my word for it. The real thing are in J.R.R. Tolkien's   
books.  
Disaster at the Gladden Fields by Bilbo's Historical Archives  
  
Preface  
  
It is told that Isildur after the Battle of the Last Alliance sought to return to his father's old kingdom Arnor which now lay   
ruins, never to be refounded until the return of his heir, king Elessar; decision which was manly influenced by Isidur's new born fear of Mordor.   
Not only did Isildur carry the hope of rebuilding that which was lost but also carried something that would bring terrible fear and failure to his plans,   
that one thing that burned Isildur's soul bounding itself to him, relinquishing him of any other thought. So Isildur set out from the Kingdom of the Seven Stars to head thru   
Rivendell straight to Eriador. A few days it took and the king along side his kin--Elendur, Aratan and Ciryon--reached the river banks of  
Anduin; making the fatal decision of not crossing the river Isildur said that it would be better to cross the river more up-stream;  
all followed for in those days after so many dealings with the Dark Lord, and his "departure" there was nothing to fret, all lands  
and corners of Middle-Earth where safe... a thought that would never come true until the day that hope would be carried on the   
shoulders of a hobbit. 


	2. A Foul Stench From Mirkwood

Ch1. A foul stench from Mirkwood.  
  
The morning was threatening as the first column reached the outer regions of Mirkwood dark and misty as it is. Elendur  
and Ciryon where riding along side their father, a bit worried about his decision of not crossing the river. Mirkwood's branches  
hang over the mud-filled path in sign of warning, for deeply dark it was and nothing beyond the first line of trees could be seen.  
Isildur's guard was formed of only a few swordsmen and about to 28 knights, what would soon come would be 10 times more overwhelming,  
but thru these few warriors' veins flowed the blood of Numenor, all but enough Isildur would have said.  
Elendur came closer to his father...  
  
"Father slowen pace for a moment!" screamed Elendur thriving to get his horse across a patch of mud.  
  
"Well, hurry up now..." Isildur said halting the advance.  
  
After the advance resumed and Elendur got free he returned to his father's side...  
  
"What troubles you? You look deeply burdened." said Elendur.  
  
"Nothing, nothing it's the weather I suppose." answered Isildur avoiding Elendur's watchful eyes.  
  
"Do not take me for a fool father, there is something wrong... it is as you where in pain."  
  
"NOTHING." replied Isildur with an unusual grin on his fair face.  
  
By that time, Isildur decided that the river is shallow enough to cross; for this to happen they had to go down a hill crowned by very high trees.  
The hill had only a few meters in length so Isildur closen the lines, unaware of the foul doings of orcs in the Gladden area. Years ago the *Necromant  
ordered the passage between the Misty Mountains and Mirwood be blocked, and so thousands of goblins and orcs came a ravaging the area not until  
the "defeat" of the Dark Lord the passage to be reopened by Beorn's kin. So Isildur marched on with his armor shining in the eyes of those that sat in the shadow.  
Near to the river's bank the scouts reported in and held a discussion with Isildur that the river might be watched.  
A tall man dressed from head to toes in chain mail spoke...  
  
"Sire, the river passage is an exact setting for an ambush, though there is no one to ambush... We'd best try the passage of Carrock."  
  
"NO. This is the best passage, it's the ONLY way, and as the only way we shall cross it." said Isildur pointing to the mist engulfed passage.  
  
At that grim moment at the back of the grey column someone shouted:  
  
"RUN!" cried the rearguard.  
  
Horses turned men fell, wargriders now had flown thru the mist braking everything in their path.  
  
"SPEARS, SPEARS!!!" shouted Isildur.  
  
By now from 28 knights there where only 11, but the shock attack was repelled. Those that remained formed a straight line formation with spears pointing towards   
the tree crowned hill. Drums, orc drums where heard in depths of Mirkwood.  
  
"Halt. Men at front knights on the right and left flank." said Isildur showing directions.  
  
The morning had now passed away, a deep dark shadow passed overhead something that Elendur thought he would not come out off only by death. And right he was  
as you shall soon find out...  
Elendur looked towards his father, he now stood in the last patch of dying sunlight, he's crown shining like the sunset.  
  
"There is now way out, the Dark Lord has reached his will." Elendur said to himself.  
  
He then called Aartan and Ciryon to his side. Grabbing their young shoulders he looked to each one--despair was in their hearts, and ethical it was. For long he had feared  
that his father carries the jewel of the Dark lord, he dared not think of it. He had made a decision there amidst all of the tension. He then spoke to his brethren...  
  
"Brothers, we have but one chance, our father carries the burden of years, he has what the Dark Lord wants... it is without chance that we try to flee, and not even if we  
had the chance would I do it." said Elendur with his eyes fixed on Aratan and Ciryon. 


	3. Isildur's Departure

Ch2. Isildur's Departure.  
  
The sounds of drums got closer and closer, but by now the drums came from both the west and east river bank. Isildur felt deep inside that this is the doing of the Dark Lord  
to well organized and armed where these orcs. His eyes now overlooked Mirkwood's crown of leaves...  
  
"Sons of Numenor, of the Seven Stars... servants of the White Tree! Hold firm, if we are to perish, that we SHALL! But not like dogs at the hands of tyrants!"  
  
Then the line facing the crowned hill fell back forming a circle with spearmen at front and swordsmen at back. Knights surrounded Isildur and his kin, the light in the kings eyes  
had faded away... hope failed.  
  
"Father! I know what you carry... and I understand your pain... but this is our battle you must go and take IT to the wisest. GO, GO NOW, flee... you are the ring bearer, you must escape. You have one option fail and it is to our destruction!" said Elendur with a low voice.   
  
"You know of this? HOW? Either way NO, we shall wait, Thranduil must of heard the drums, HE will come." said Isildur shouting frightened at Elendur.  
  
"At what use?! In a couple of minutes the orcs will arrive and as much as I hate to say it, they are grater the us."  
  
"I will go my son, if it is to a good cause, but I trust that you will return to me one day." Isildur said in grate pain.  
  
"OTHAR, come here!" shouted Isildur.  
  
"I trust you with this my brave squire, the sword of my kin Narsil, the sword of Elendil, take it to the elvensmiths in Rivendell, may it serve in brighter days when it shall be renewed and the crownless again shall be king.   
Now flee!"  
  
At that point Isildur and Elendur stood face to face king and prince, father and son... both knew what to do. Isildur then ran out of the circle jumping on the east bank of the river, near a high point   
of the river passage. Even there the drums could be heard. He sought to hide but he could not find any place for he wore heavy armor. The river started to wash the filthy feet of orcs when Isildur put  
behind his armor and grate sword and the ring that he had so much hatred towards, he had now put it on his finger. But even with the ring he dared not move, he stood there, overlooking his son, Elendur.  
Elendur had now brought all of his men to him and in one final march and with a shout so high that it passed like a painful wind thru all of Middle-Earth he confronted the orcs like a true Numenorean, Elendur  
the uncrowned king, the brave son of the king.  
  
"Years ago Sauron made a grate mistake the murder of the son of the king. They swore revenge, there is no other way let the storms of war begin!"... the last words of Elendur, the words that Isildur painfully heard as  
Elendur and his men perished in an instant. 


	4. Messenger of Gods, Hope fails! The line ...

Ch3. Messenger of Gods, Hope fails! The line of kings is broken.  
  
All was silent after the orcs ravaged the last remaining man, and Isildur was still there invisible, just that he wished that what he had seen was also invisible. He then fell into despair, his heart was conquered by  
the rings power. After the orcs left the area he jumped into the river Anduin in hope of swimming to the other side... he strived and swam as hard as he could, but something happened that would be the doom of the  
grate king Isildur... the ring had left Isildur's hand... he was visible.  
  
"To this it has come. A new power is rising is victory shall be swift." cried Isildur.  
  
With that the orcs that watched the western bank of Anduin noticed Isildur and hurled forth their black arrows, putting Isildur's life to an end. Thus died the king descendent of the seven stars, second only to the high kings  
of noble elves.  
His last words amongst the worthless struggles to cover from the orc arrows where:  
  
"White city surrounded by light, across the seas they have come, heirs to a dreadful fate." as he foretold the coming of the brave kings from the lines of crownless striders.  
  
*Notes: Necromant, a name for the Dark Lord in Rhovanion or Mirkwood. 


End file.
